


Lace Me Up and Spit Me Out

by cairistiona13



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Crossdressing, Crossdressing Kink, Hand Jobs, M/M, Public Blow Jobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-18
Updated: 2016-03-18
Packaged: 2018-05-27 09:25:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6278875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cairistiona13/pseuds/cairistiona13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kim Joonmyun is not a stripper. He’s a sexy angel. There’s a difference. (Not that Kim Jongin really cares one way or another.)<br/>Alternative Summary: Kim Jongin doesn’t know what he’s expecting when he opens the door on Friday at Kris’s Stag Night, but a young man in stockings, a halo, and a frilly white dress is not it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lace Me Up and Spit Me Out

**Author's Note:**

> This was dedicated to Adele and Shanti, the people who tell me “good luck” when I say “somebody should write X”, Aga, whose school days are/were far too long, and Mano, who deserves/d some silliness.  
> This was originally porn without plot and then it managed to inspire a plot. Well done, self!

Kim Joonmyun is not a stripper.

He feels like he has to announce this due to the fact that people regularly seem to think he is. He is not. His clothes stay on—for the most part, at least. _Usually._

What Kim Joonmyun is, is a Sexy Angel. The only one in Seoul, for that matter.

It’s a job he invented himself during the first year of his PGCE, when his parents informed him they’d only pay for his university degree if he got a job to pay his bills. But nobody would hire him, so he decided to work as a sort of escort for Hen Nights. And so the job of Sexy Angel was born.

The intention was to only do it until he got a job of his own. Somehow he managed to get a job as a primary school teacher when he finished university— _somehow_ —but he still enjoyed being an escort so much that he keeps it as a side job for a little bit of pocket money. He has been lucky, so far, in that he has never met one of his students’ parents out on a job. That would be embarrassing.

Joonmyun enjoys it, though, because it means he can meet a lot of new and interesting people—well, “interesting” when they’re not tittering about whatever it is they titter about. Hen Nights are usually full of ladies who want to grope his bum and twitter about how his arm muscles are _just firm enough_ and how good he looks in a dress. They want to sit in his lap and ask him for wishes as if he’s a genie and Joonmyun is absolutely fine with this. The groping is a necessary hazard just as long as it doesn’t go overboard. And most women cotton onto the fact he’s not interested in the female persuasion very quickly, anyway.

It’s a very calm life with a little bit of silliness when he gets hired out along with male strippers and they want a show, but usually there’s no issues.

This all changes when he’s hired to do a Stag Do.

He has never done a Stag Do before. Stag Dos are groups of men together and Joonmyun isn’t stupid enough to think he’ll fall in love with the groom or anything but there are more hazards involved in doing them. This is why he almost refuses, makes up some excuse against doing it, but something pulls him in this time and he accepts. Stag Do.

Excellent.

 

 

Kim Jongin doesn’t know what he’s expecting when he opens the door on Friday at Kris’s Stag Night, but a young man in see-through white stockings, a halo, and a frilly white dress is not it. He thinks there might be wings back there but it’s dark and he’s swaying a little bit so he can’t really be sure.

He gets over it in moments when somebody shouts, “Excellent! The entertainment’s here!” which clearly makes the young man bristle, but he fixes himself quickly, spreading a kind (and somewhat attractive) smile over his face in its place.

“Hello,” the young man says, “I’m Suho.” He is, Jongin is almost thankful to see, not wearing heels (or a wig, for that matter). That makes things a lot easier then.

“Come in,” Jongin says, and the young—well, Suho walks in after him. He takes a look around at the room; there are young men everywhere, over chairs and the floor and tables. Kris is sprawled ungainly in one and Sehun and Baekhyun are trying to fit themselves into another chair and Yixing is where Jongin was sitting before the doorbell rang. Jongin sighs, and takes a swig from his beer.

“Do you grant wishes?” Kris asks, and then, almost expectantly, pats his lap. Suho looks very confused for a moment before he obediently crosses the room in his little white Mary Janes and settles onto Kris’s lap, looking slightly uncomfortable.

“Aren’t you supposed to sit on his lap?” Jongdae asks between laughs. Kris gives him A Look. Jongin thinks that’s quite understandable. Suho looks like he’d be squished flat if Kris sat on him.

“What would you like?” Suho asks, once he’s settled. Kris dwarfs him, so it looks like a bizarre version of a child sitting on Santa’s knee, if the child was a boy in a dress and Santa a twenty-seven year old.

Jongin is expecting something like, “Can you do a striptease for us?” but he’s shocked (and horrified) by what Kris actually asks.

“Can you find my little brother a boyfriend?” Kris asks, and then nods at Jongin. “He’s twenty-three and could do with one.” And from the look he’s giving Suho, slightly hungry and also appreciative, he’s suggesting something different from what he’s actually asking. Jongin feels the bottom of his stomach give out.

Suho turns his head to look at Jongin, almost as if he’s contemplating something, and Jongin pinks with embarrassment before he can’t bear it any longer and he runs off to the kitchen. He doesn’t hear Suho’s answer.

 

 

Joonmyun’s evening only gets weirder, from the moment the door is opened to reveal this extremely handsome young man before him who turns out to be the younger brother of the man getting married, to sitting on Kris’s lap—Kris being the man getting married to, a man named Jongdae conversationally tells him, a thirty year old piano prodigy from Busan—to getting asked if he provides dating services, to lots of other things involving this one that is happening right now.

He supposes he’s had quite a bit of alcohol more than he’d thought and that’s why he doesn’t protest when the seriously attractive younger brother, himself a fair bit drunker than he’d been when Joonmyun had arrived, presses him against the wall in his bedroom and then presses his lips to Joonmyun’s.

For a drunk, he kisses extremely well, but Joonmyun supposes that could just be the alcohol talking.

Joonmyun isn’t entirely sure how they got to this point, he had been going to the toilet and as he’d left he’d been accosted and he does wonder if a dare was involved because he’s not sure the man would have approached him of his own volition, alcohol or not and—he should probably stop thinking right now, right?

Accosted isn’t the right word anyway. He’s most definitely sure there’d been foreplay involved, and Joonmyun most definitely is not against the kissing or he’d have refused when he’d had the option. It’s not every day that people this attractive are attracted to him, too. Joonmyun has a terrible track record with attractions.

What Joonmyun doesn’t expect is the young man—he should really ask his name but he just can’t get his breath—to slide down to the floor and palm him through the dress he’s wearing. His head falls back against the wall with a _thunk_ and his breath comes ragged as the man flips up his skirt. He’s wearing lace underwear, because it feels better against the dress, and because it holds the suspenders of his stockings up. The man clearly wasn’t expecting it, though as his movements still.

“Kinky,” he says, after a few beats of silence, “I like it.” And then he breathes against the lace and Joonmyun’s cock twitches.

The other man noses against the lace, and Joonmyun hardens with his ministrations, fingers grasping against the wall for purchase. When Joonmyun’s cock is pressed against the lace, pre-come leaking out and staining the material, the other man pulls the knickers down to Joonmyun’s thighs, stockings coming down with them, bunching around his knees. Joonmyun breathes hard.

The first touch of tongue against his cock has Joonmyun jerking and hissing through his nose. The man licks up the side and tongues the slit at the head and Joonmyun moans. The other man pulls back for a second and says, “My name’s Jongin,” and then seals his mouth over the tip of Joonmyun’s cock and sinks down, taking as much in his mouth as he’s able.

Joonmyun is not able to do much except clutch at the wall with one hand and fist his other in Jongin’s hair, tugging at the short strands when Jongin sucks in a particularly delightful way, or doesn’t go fast enough for him. Joonmyun isn’t sure if Jongin has much experience in this field but it doesn’t matter in the slightest. If he isn’t experienced he certainly makes up for it in enthusiasm, licking and sucking as best he can. Joonmyun doesn’t think he’s ever had a better blowjob, and to think he only met this man tonight—well.

Joonmyun comes too early as Jongin fingers his balls, and only has the presence of mind to breathe, “Jong—” Jongin pulls back and Joonmyun comes over his lips, white dripping down and landing in splatters on the wooden floor. Some gets onto his clothes and Joonmyun blushes.

Jongin pulls Joonmyun’s underwear back up for him, tucking his cock in gently, and then wipes his face with the bottom of his t-shirt. He stands up and stretches. Joonmyun can see his cock tenting his jeans, and he reaches out, brushes his knuckles across the zip. “May I?” he asks.

Jongin nods his head, eyes glazed over with lust, and he tips his head back as Joonmyun gets the buckle of his belt undone, pops the button of his jeans, and slides his hand inside. Jongin’s cock is hot and heavy in his hand, already leaking at the tip, and it’s only a few strokes before Jongin comes over Joonmyun’s hand, pulling Joonmyun in close to nibble his lips as he does so. The name he breathes as he does is _Suho_ and Joonmyun suddenly feels like he’s made a terrible mistake.

He stumbles back from Jongin. “I have to go,” he says, and then makes a show of looking at his watch. It’s past one in the morning. He should have left already. “I’m late. I’m sorry.”

“I’ll show you out?” Jongin offers, looking both confused and wounded, but Joonmyun shakes his head.

“No, it’s—it’s fine, really. Thank you,” he says, and then he hurries out of the door.

The party is still in full swing, and he means that literally, considering someone is swinging from the hanging light in the middle of the room. Even in his drunken haze Joonmyun is worried they’ll hurt themselves, or ruin the electrics, but he can’t bring himself to stop and do anything about it. He all but runs over to the door and leaves to a dim cry of, “Bye Suho!”

He doesn’t stop until he’s in his car and he curls his knees up to his chest and hates himself, before he falls asleep.

 

 

Jongin wakes up feeling like he’s been run over by a truck.

He staggers out of bed and out to the kitchen, where he discovers many of his brother’s friends are still there, most of them asleep. Jongdae is awake, sitting in front of the television, where some appalling foreign daytime show is on.

“Yo, Jongin!” Jongdae says, with the most infuriating grin on his face. “Did you get lucky last night?”

Jongin pauses to assess him for a moment, and then remembers the blowjob he’d given Suho the Sexy Angel, the handjob he’d been given in return, and how Suho had run away, and groans. “He ran away,” he says.

Jongdae doesn’t stop grinning. “Do you want to get lucky?” he tries again.

“He was very attractive!” Jongin huffs.

“I have his phone number,” Jongdae says. Jongin stares at him, misery bubbling through him, and Jongdae adds, “I booked him, remember? Here.” He fumbles in his pocket and tosses his mobile across the room. Jongin lurches forward to catch it before it crashes into the floor and Jongdae forces him to pay for a new one.

There’s a number already on the screen, beneath a time that shows it is probably socially acceptable to phone now. He presses the call button.

The phone rings a couple of times and Jongin twitches impatiently until it’s answered.

“Hello!” says a cheerful voice.

“Um, hello, can I speak to Suho, please?” Jongin asks, and then bites his lip anxiously.

“I’m sorry, I think you’ve got the wrong number,” the voice continues, and that’s definitely not Suho, because Jongin remembers Suho’s voice rather quite well. “There are no Suhos who live here.” He sounds foreign, maybe Chinese. “I hope you find who you’re looking for, have a good day.” And then the bastard hangs up on him.

Jongin hurls the phone back and Jongdae and is disappointed when it bounces off Jongdae’s forehead and doesn’t break. “Wrong number,” he says. “Some Chinese kid picked up. You’re a jerk.”

Jongdae’s brow furrowed and he checks the number. “This is definitely the number I ordered Suho from,” he says. “I wouldn’t mess with you, bro.”

“It’s really not the number,” Jongin says. “And now I’m going to drown myself in my blanket, wake me up in time for the wedding.” And he trudges back to bed.

 

 

“Do you know who Suho is?” Zitao asks when Joonmyun gets out of the shower, towel wrapped around his waist and another in his hair, towelling it dry. Zitao is his best friend from university, a fellow teacher at the school Joonmyun works at, and is the only person who has the privilege of 1) seeing Joonmyun naked even though they’re not sleeping together, and 2) answering his phone for him.

Joonmyun freezes, his breath quickening, because this is a whole portion of his life he’s managed to keep hidden from everyone and Zitao isn’t supposed to know. They weren’t supposed to ring today. He has rules.

“Um,” he says, and tries to collect himself. “No, no idea at all. Must have been a wrong number.”

Zitao looks at him like there’s something he suspects Joonmyun isn’t telling him, but thankfully he stays quiet and doesn’t ask. This is one of the reasons Joonmyun likes him so much. He never asks questions before Joonmyun is ready to tell him.

He’s not sure he’ll ever be ready to tell Zitao about the gorgeous young man called Jongin who gave him the best blowjob of his life and then called out _Suho_ as he came. It doesn’t bear thinking about. If Joonmyun is honest with himself, he’d really like to see Jongin again, get to know him maybe, but currently all he’s thinking is that he never ever ever wants to cross paths with him _ever_ again, if there’s anything he can do about it.

“Hurry up and get dressed,” Zitao says instead. “We’re meeting Kyungsoo in half an hour and the trains take ages.”

Joonmyun heads back into his room to change but the whole time he’s plagued with thoughts of Jongin’s perfect mouth wrapped around his cock and it’s rather quite difficult for him to not get hard as he wishes for it to happen again.

 

 

Jongin wakes up on Monday to the sound of his phone ringing. A glance over at the clock shows it’s late, almost one o’clock. He groans and grabs his phone. He’s about to reject the call when he sees his oldest sister’s name on the phone.

“Jonginnie~,” she coos, “could you do Noona a huge favour?”

Jongin sighs, knowing he’s not going to like this. “What?”

“Could you pick up Minah from school? She’s sick and I can’t leave to pick her up.”

“Can’t Kris do it?” Jongin whines. “I don’t want to get up.”

“No,” she says. “You’re the one who doesn’t have class today and Kris is _on his honeymoon_ , seeing as you clearly forgot. Please, for Noona?”

Jongin sighs and pulls himself into a sitting position, ruffling his hair up as he sits. “ _Fine_ ,” he grumbles.

“Please pick her up by half one and I’ll get her from you when I finish,” his Noona says, and then she hangs up before he can agree. He drops the phone onto his blanket and ruffles his hair some more.

“Great,” he mutters.

It doesn’t take him long to get dressed and out the door. Minah’s school isn’t far away from the flat he shares with Kris, so he ambles there and thinks about the wedding and Suho because he can’t _not_ think about Suho.

Minah is in the sickbay when he gets there, so he has to navigate the school to get to her, and it’s as he walks around the school with a map in his hand that he sees him.

It’s a young man, soft dark brown hair and kind eyes, in a grey sweater over a pink shirt and smart black trousers and Jongin just _knows_ that he’s Suho.

“Joonmyun-hyung!” someone calls, and the young man turns away towards the new face, a taller man with blond hair and a wide smile and Jongin bites his lip because he’s not Suho? Except he is?

“There you are,” the man says. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

There’s a twinge of familiarity and Jongin tries to place where he’s heard the voice before. It’s just a moment before Jongin realises that he’s the same person who spoke to Jongin on the phone on Saturday.

He’s now pretty sure that Joonmyun is Suho. And that his friend didn’t know he was called Suho.

Jongin doesn’t want to infringe on any privacy Su— _Joonmyun_ has, but he wants to get his attention anyway. So he does it in a rather quite sneaky way, he thinks.

“Excuse me!” he calls out.

Joonmyun turns to look at him, and for a moment there’s nothing, and then—just a little bit, but there’s a spark of recognition. His face pales and he looks around, as if for an escape route.

“Yes?” Joonmyun’s friend says, even as Joonmyun tries to leave.

“Can you show me where the sickbay is, please?” Jongin asks, and then makes a show of recognising Joonmyun. “Oh, hi! I didn’t recognise you there.” He lathers healthy helpings of surprise and happiness into his voice. “I’m Jongin, we met last week?”

Joonmyun gives him a nervous smile. “Oh, yes,” he says, sounding a little uncomfortable, and he bows. “Nice to see you again, Jongin-sshi.”

“I don’t think I caught your name,” Jongin says, trying for airy but probably not managing.

Joonmyun winces. “Kim Joonmyun,” he says, though, and Jongin smiles with relief and joy at actually knowing the man’s real name.

“I’ve got to prepare,” the other man says, “Joonmyun-hyung can handle it, right?”

“Bye, Zitao,” Joonmyun says, a little distractedly, and he turns back to Jongin. “What are you doing here?” he hisses.

“I’m picking up my niece,” Jongin says. “I didn’t know you worked in a school.”

“You don’t know _anything_ about me,” Joonmyun says. He still looks uncomfortable.

“That’s not true,” Jongin says. “I know your name, I know what you do on Friday nights, I know what you look like when you—”

“Yes, yes, all right,” Joonmyun cuts him off.

“I think we got off on the wrong foot somehow,” Jongin says. “But I—to be honest, I want to get to know you a bit better.”

Joonmyun scratches at his jaw. He looks unsure, but no longer has any hostility in his eyes. “Really?” he asks. He sounds almost nervous. “That wasn’t just—a thing?”

“No,” Jongin says.

“Well,” Joonmyun says, the nerves gone from his voice, “we can try. If you want. But don’t tell anyone where we met. Nobody…knows, and I’d like it to stay that way.”

Jongin agrees, and then Joonmyun leads him to the sickbay. After a quick glance around, Jongin darts in to press a quick kiss to Joonmyun’s cheek. “I’ll see you on Friday then, yeah?” he asks. Joonmyun, blushing, nods, and then he’s gone. Jongin heads in to where Minah is.

The first thing Minah does is say, “I’m telling Umma that you kissed Mr Kim!”

Jongin drops his head into his hands and sighs with utmost regret.

But he doesn’t forget that he has a date with the hottest man he’s seen in years, and that, really, is quite an achievement. Especially for him.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know where or how they're going on that date. I guess it'll magically happen somehow.


End file.
